Your Love's Coming Down
by ColieMacKenzie
Summary: And then she's running, and finally she is no longer running away. Speculation piece for episode 4x23 "Always" based on a scene from the ABC promo - contains spoilers. Happy Birthday Angie!


******Your Love's Coming Down**

**AN:** This is pure speculation based on a glimpse of a scene in the US Promo of episode 4x23, "Always" (contains SPOILERS!)

_Happy Birthday, Ms. Angie Smartypants!_

* * *

_Rain, wash away my sorrow,  
__Take away my pain,  
__Your love's coming down like rain._

_("Rain", Madonna)_

* * *

**Your Love's Coming Down**

She is soaked within minutes. The rain drenches her clothes, her hair, and thunder rolls, cracking through ominous clouds.

How appropriate.

She came to tell her mother. Tears stream down her face, mingle with the rain that's dripping onto her cheeks. She wishes she could just lean on her mom's shoulder but instead she stands by her grave as she tells her that she has to let it go. That she will always love her, but now she has to live. That she fought and fought yet she forgot to live.

Now she is exhausted; she has no job, no more leads, no mother. She's lost everything.

Everything but him.

The man who loves her.

And then she's running, and finally she is no longer running away.

* * *

The door swings open and there he is, backlit by the golden warmth from the fireplace in his loft, surprise on his face but hope in his eyes, and her heart leaps ahead of her and right toward him.

There's a thrumming urgency that runs through her veins, a deep ache too long ignored that is desperately clawing for him.

He is protection and comfort and care, fun and warmth and love, he's everything.

All she needs. All she wants.

And he loves her.

She leaps forward, rushes toward him, no words, just urgency and need propelling her and she cradles her hands around his cheeks, draws his face close to hers; his eyes widen in surprise and then she presses her lips to his.

His mouth is soft, welcoming and she tastes him, slips her tongue along his lips, lavishes them in urgent touches.

He gasps, clamps his arm around her waist, holding her pressed tightly against his body, his other hand bowed around the back of her neck, cradling her.

"Kate," he murmurs against her lips, low, wanting, enchanted, and the vibrations of his voice shimmy tightly through her body; she whimpers, uses the momentum to delve inside of his mouth and he groans, meets her touches and strokes as she explores the heated depths of him.

She can't get enough, can't stop kissing him, doesn't want to. Can't stop wanting the heated flavor of his desperate, loving, clawing desire for her. She's cradling his leg between her thighs, helplessly rocks her middle against it as he devours her mouth and he groans darkly.

"Kate, Kate, Kate," her name like a prayer on his lips, awed and heightened and she moans, scrapes her fingers into his hair, sucks his lower lip between hers.

He almost growls at her touch, his hand trying to crawl under her wet clothes at her back, not finding purchase. His arm comes up and then he runs both his hands through her dripping hair.

"You're soaking wet," he murmurs, holding her eyes with his as he strokes the clinging wet strands off her forehead.

She drops her forehead against his, gasping for breath, digging her nails into his shoulders.

"Mmm," she hums against his lips, suggestive. "You have _no_ idea."

He groans, cants his pelvis toward her; his fingers clenched around her head, he tilts her up, claiming her mouth once more, delving deep, longing and desperate.

She clings to him, rocks against him, shivers.

"You cold?" He presses the words into her lips.

She shakes her head, murmurs "No," seeks his mouth. _Yes_, but it doesn't matter, nothing matters.

Then despite herself, she shivers again.

* * *

The steam from the hot spray of the shower wafts through his bathroom, fogging up the mirror, heating the air, adding a surreal blur as he slowly peels the wet clothes off her body.

He fumbles with buttons, bra clasp, zipper, all without looking because he keeps kissing her, and she greedily falls against his touches, taking what she's been craving for so long.

She tries her best to undo his shirt buttons; she aches to run her hands over his strong chest and all over his heated skin, but her fingers are too cold and so he does it himself, quickly pulls off his shirt and pants and everything else and she barely registers that she is standing stark naked in front of him because now so is he.

He adjusts the water temperature, steps into the shower and then he holds out a hand invitingly, the corner of his mouths tilted to a smile, and he helps her step inside.

The hot water immediately pounds onto her chilled skin and she angles her head into the spray, closes her eyes as she lets it run over her face and through her hair.

When she looks back at him, his eyes glimmer in midnight blue, dark swirls of passion and desire and her knees go weak with want, heat slicing hotly through her insides.

She pounces on him; he catches her, pulls her into his embrace, his mouth searing and intense against hers, and then he's got her pressed against the tiles, his hands on her body, sliding along her slippery skin, lavishing her in touches and kisses, licks and small scrapes of his teeth that drive her crazy with need and she moans desperately, her fingers clawed into his shoulders.

He drapes one of her legs over his and, holding her steady by her waist, he slips his fingers between her thighs, seeking and finding, and it's pressure and sweetness and longing and intensity, and it's so lightning fast that she can barely comprehend it before she splits open in his embrace, all curling intensity and bright splintering light.

He cradles her into his arms under the warm spray of the shower, holds her up, with her face pressed into the curve of his neck while she gasps for breath, her arms draped limply over his shoulders, the water trailing warm and soft down her back.

When she can breathe again, can trust her knees to stay steady, she lifts her head, finds his eyes. He smiles warmly, his gaze protective and sweet and amazed, and warmth dances all through her body on gossamer wings, the steady and miraculous flutters of love.

He kisses her forehead, her nose, then along her cheekbones and down to her jaw, his touches tender on her skin, worshipping her and suddenly she can't stop the tears from falling, all pent-up emotions draining from her within the protection and safety of his arms.

"Shhh, it's okay," he murmurs caringly, kisses the tears off her cheeks. "It'll all be okay."

She drops her face against his forehead, breathes in his comforting scent, draws from the strength of his body curled protectively around her.

It will be okay now.

_**end of scene**_

* * *

_Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,  
__And I say, never go away._


End file.
